


Take It Off

by Mirror_Verse, orphan_account



Series: Mirror-Verse [58]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Angst, F/M, M/M, Sexual Tension, Stripper!Jimmy, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Was supposed to be funny but is not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirror_Verse/pseuds/Mirror_Verse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar and Gabriel drag Cas and Dean out to Balthazar’s favorite strip club where they see someone a little familiar on stage. Based on HIMYM’s doppelgangers. It was supposed to be funny, I swear. I don’t know what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Off

Castiel did not know why he had agreed to come along, let alone how his brother had convinced Dean into going along on this excursion. Kali had given Gabriel her blessing, and he was over excited to be coming along, and Balthazar, the mastermind, was leading the group. Castiel didn’t understand what he was going to get out of a trip to a strip club, as he was only attracted to one person, and he got to see Dean strip rather often. Perhaps not in a seductive, provocative manner, but it was a show nonetheless.

But Dean was smiling and somewhat enjoying himself, it seemed, as he sat next to Dean in Gabriel’s beat-up old car. Usually he would be making cracks about it, jokes about them not making it. The car did, perhaps, deserve it; it was old and rickety and barely made it down the road to the Speedway when he was craving a twinkie in the middle of the night.

Cas tried to focus more on Dean fiddling with his fingers next to him to distract himself from how nervous he was. He didn’t do well in overly sexualized environments; he felt out of place, didn’t react like everyone else did. He felt awkward watching people do strange movements with their bodies that was supposed to be appealing but just looked odd to him. But the people around him expected him to like it, expected him to want this stranger, this warm body, but he didn’t.

It was alienating for him and off-putting for other people. For reasons that he could not comprehend, sex was the way that people related to one another. They didn’t know where to place him in their social bubbles, didn’t know how to take him in. He knew that he was not good at connecting to people, knew that he didn’t get people in the same way that most people inherently did.

But he also knew that he had the best group of friends and family that he could have, that he was lucky they had stuck with him. Most of all, he thought as he watched Dean fidget out of the corner of his eye, he was lucky for Dean Winchester. Most of his life, his friends had been his family, because they were the ones that were stuck with him, that grew up with him and knew how to deal with him. But he’d come to college, expecting more of the same and he’d met Dean instead. And after Dean, more people had come and had stayed with him. His life had been changed inexplicably by one friend, who had touched nearly every aspect of it in ways he had never expected.

Dean was grabbing his shoulder and he looked up, eyes wide. He lost his train of thought, inches away from Dean’s face.

“Hey, man, we’re at the club. You ready?" He pulled back, and Cas thought he was imagining the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. Cas wanted to tell him that no, he was not ready, but he just nodded stiffly, stretching his cramped legs and stepping out of the car. He struggled to keep himself upright on his shaking limbs, licking his lips nervously and looking at his brothers and his friend. Gabriel and Balthazar beckoned them, smiling widely and practically skipping to the entrance. Dean stayed back with Castiel, who was already regretting falling prey to the constant begging from his brothers and walking slowly at the back of the group.

“Are you okay?" He asked Castiel, leaning over to whisper it so that his brothers wouldn’t overhear.

“I am regretting this decision," He said, keeping his pace steady and reaching the door with Dean at his side, opening it for him. Dean ducked his head in silent thanks, and continued the conversation, “If you want to go home, I can call Sam and have him drive the Impala here."

Castiel shook his head violently, “No, I am fine." He would not have Dean do something that made him uncomfortable for Castiel’s sake. “Really," He added, weak even to his own ears, when Dean gave him an uncertain look.

“If you’re sure…" he said, touching him slightly on the arm. It helped to calm Castiel down as they stepped into the club. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t quite this. It wasn’t as loud as he expected, in regards to the people talking. There was music playing softly, and none of the dancers were on the stage at the moment; the people milling about and lounging at their tables. He was slightly frightened by the amount of familiarity Balthazar seemed to have with the greeter and the waiter that came to their table.

Castiel wanted, more than anything, to be able to pull out his brushes and paint away his anxiety, his fears, and his insecurities. Instead, he sat a little closer to Dean than a friend might, taking comfort in his presence. It reminded him that he wasn’t necessarily an outsider, that he was able to make friends and keep them.

When their waiter and Balthazar stopped flirting long enough for their orders to be taken, he smiled at Cas and Dean leaning slightly. He asked, “How long have you two been together?" And they both jerked away from each other, but barely, “We-we’re not together." Dean said, eyes wide, as Cas shook his head violently beside them.

Their waiter’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked confused, “Balthy told me…" He looked over at the brother in question, who just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t bother to look bashful about his blatant lie. He looked back at the two friends, “I am so sorry, I’ll just…I’ll go put your orders in." He turned tail and walked briskly back to the swinging kitchen doors.

Dean and Castiel were blushing and sitting further apart than they had been before, and Castiel mourned the loss of Dean’s comforting presence at his side. Balthazar watched them sheepishly from across the table, but not too long, because the lights dimmed slightly and a voice announcing the first performer cut through the music.

Cas had been placed in the seat with his back towards the stage, and he did not mind. He was able to watch Dean react to the dancer on the stage, rather than the dancer himself. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, afraid he might be jealous of the way that Dean was responding to someone other than himself. But he knew that it was ridiculous; they weren’t together and Dean was a sexual person. He was attracted to more than one person, and he probably wasn’t attracted to Castiel at all anyway. Cas could not expect fidelity of the thoughts, could not expect Dean’s hormones to be faithful to a person that he was not involved with.

It was a form of torture, watching Dean’s eyes follow the movements of a dancer he could not see. Their food was on the table, and he would occasionally put some of it in his mouth and chew absentmindedly, but no one other than Castiel were really eating. They all had their eyes trained to the stage, eyes wide and mouths open.

He barely bothered to pay attention as the voice announced the next dancer, who went by the stage name, “Jimmy." Dean snorted though, and talked with a mouthful of fry, “That’s a dumb stage name, I mean…" but he trailed off as he watched the dancer come on stage, mouth falling open and eyes widening. Castiel felt his stomach churn as all the signs of arousal appeared on Dean’s face, and he looked over at his brothers to see how they were reacting. He really didn’t want to see the dancer that was garnering such attention

Gabriel looked like he was going to throw up: Balthazar was just smirking and watching Dean drool slightly. Gabe looked over at his brother and smacked him on the arm, “You knew!" He said, looking between the stage and Dean, “I didn’t want to see Cas. That is not why I came here." Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clenching his fists in his lap and tearing his eyes away from the dancer.

He turned around, still unsure if he wanted to see Jimmy the stripper, and was faced with a half-naked version of himself. It wasn’t exact, and there was no way you could mistake them for one another. It had mostly to do with how they carried themselves, how it translated on their bodies, but he could see himself mirrored in the dancer’s features.

He felt violently ill, and jerked his eyes off of the dancer, who was still doing his imitation of a sexy angel onstage. Gabriel looked at him in worry as he stared steadfast at the table, trying to keep from crying. He felt so exposed, and it was ridiculous because it wasn’t even him on that stage, wasn’t really his body. But he knew that it was him all of the men at his table were imagining.

Pushing his chair away from the table and standing up, he pushed his way through the thick crowd of people standing about and shoved his way through the front doors. He didn’t care if he had to stand out here for hours, there was no way he was going to step foot into that establishment again in his life.

He heard the door open behind him but didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“Hey, Cas," Dean said, stopping a few feet behind him. Cas could feel him, like there was something physical between them that shifted when one of them moved, affecting the other, “You…okay?"

He whipped around, unable to keep himself from looking at Dean. All of the traces of arousal from before were gone, and Cas wondered if he had imagined it before. He stared him down; he was standing with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets. He was trying to make himself seem smaller and unassuming, whether consciously or unconsciously.

“No," he said, looking down at th ground and then back into Dean’s eyes because he just couldn’t look away, “I am not. I do not know why I came here tonight, and it is very upsetting and then that happened." He was practically hysterical in voice, hands clenched at his sides.

“If you didn’t want to come, you should have said something, man." Dean approached him, touching his arm lightly.

“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone," He said, “They seemed to really want me to come along." He tucked his chin into his body, but didn’t move his hand out of Dean’s grasp.

“But if you didn’t want to come…" he trailed off, mind going another way, “And that stripper," he said, “He wasn’t you, no one was looking at you, Cas, it’s okay." At this, Cas flushed and yanked his arm away, “But it’s what all of you were thinking." He took a step back, “It wasn’t Jimmy on that stage, not to any of you. Gabriel made that clear enough to me."

Perhaps he was imagining the flash of panic that showed on Dean’s face, the fear, because it was gone in an instant. Dean didn’t deny it because, really, he could not. They both knew that Castiel’s words were the truth. But at the apologetic look on his face, Castiel’s anxiety and nausea faded away, and he just nodded at Dean, “Can we just go?"

Dean smiled and stepped closer, touching his forearm, “Of course we can, let me just call Sam." He pulled out his phone and pulled Cas close, and they left the club behind, forgotten.


End file.
